No Presents Please_Mumbai Stories by Jayant Kaikini & Tejaswini Niranjana

Author:Jayant Kaikini & Tejaswini Niranjana [Kaikini, Jayant & Niranjana, Tejaswini]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: null
Amazon: B077PP3TQG
Publisher: HarperPerennial
Published: 2017-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

WATER

‘W

e will be landing at Mumbai Airport in approximately twenty minutes. Please fasten your seat belts.’ Chandrahas felt that the plane was shaking a little more than usual. He looked over his reading glasses at the skies outside. By this time, he should have been able to see Khandala, Matheran, Karla and Lohagad through a thin curtain of clouds. By this time, he should have been remembering some picnic, some trek, some trip or training camp he had been to in the mountains below with fondness. The Karla waterfall, which had once frightened his friends and him during the monsoon, should be visible from here like a small metal badge. But he could see nothing except a thick wall of cloud. And the aircraft was swinging alarmingly from side to side. Chandrahas wondered if the plane could land under these conditions. He looked around at his fellow passengers with a small face as the plane gave a jolt, and the voice announced: ‘We apologize for the turbulence caused by inclement weather. Please return to your seats and keep your seatbelts fastened.’ Like a passenger in the last seat of a bus that had just gone over a pothole, the elderly man seated next to Chandrahas said, ‘My goodness.’ Chandrahas gave the man’s hand a squeeze and smiled at him reassuringly.

In the last one and half hours, the two had spoken more than was perhaps necessary, and now an artificial silence prevailed. The man’s name was Santoshan. He was a Malayali who had lived all over India, and had spent the last thirty years in Ahmedabad establishing his own factory. Now, for the past two years he had been living with his only daughter in Bangalore. He hadn’t been well of late, and he regularly came to Mumbai to consult with a famous doctor. Normally his daughter or his son-in-law accompanied him. Today, the sonin-law had got delayed, and was going to be on the next flight. Not wanting to trouble the old man with the tired voice, Chandrahas said, ‘You’ll certainly get well soon. I can see it from your eyes.’

Smiling, the old man said, ‘Tell me the truth and I will believe you. I never used to trust anyone when I was in business. Only believed in money. But after I fell sick, I’ve started believing anything anyone says.’

Santoshan, though, did not seem to want to know anything about his neighbour. Feeling awkward, Chandrahas offered: ‘I’m from Honnavar, on the west coast of Karnataka. I’ve been working in Mumbai for the past ten years. I’ve had an interview for a better job in Bangalore. They even paid for my travel. I’ll get twice my present salary. It’s as though I’ve already got the job. But now I don’t know what to do.’

‘Relax, man,’ said Santoshan. ‘Stay wherever you can work well. And everything else will take care of itself. Whether it’s Timbuktu or Miami or Mumbai, or anywhere else on earth, if you get the right atmosphere and you can lose yourself in your work, it’s like you’re serving your own country and your town.

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